Aftermath
by MariaClaire
Summary: What happened to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all the others in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts? **As always in this fanfic world, nothing belongs to me but my storyline; all of the characters, settings, spells, etc come directly from the amazing mind of JK Rowling.**
1. Chapter 1: Tears and Turkey

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly…I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."*

Hermione smiled, but her lip was trembling and she flung her arms around Harry. She needed to reassure herself that he was here, alive, to feel the warm, living, breathing, solidness of him. Remembering his limp body lying at Voldemort's feet, she shuddered and hugged him tighter. Harry gave her a squeeze back and then he did something he had never done before and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said. "Both of you."

Hermione pulled away from him and looked over at Ron. He was standing watching them, arms crossed, his eyes surprisingly bright. Hermione held out her arm and he stepped over, putting an arm around her shoulders as she slipped hers around his waist. He held out his hand to Harry.

"Glad you're here, mate," Ron said.

Harry gave a small laugh and shook Ron's hand vigorously. Hermione saw the look that passed between them and she smiled. With one hand still on Harry's shoulder and the other around Ron's waist, she felt a sense of peace and contentment. A great weight had vanished from all their shoulders, tension that she hadn't even realized was there until it was gone had left their faces. Despite the horrors of the night, or perhaps because of them, it was a beautiful morning.

The three of them stood like that for a few moments before the silence was broken by Dumbledore's portrait, which cleared its throat and said, "I beg your pardon, but I must ask for just a few more moments of your time."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione broke apart and turned towards the portrait. Despite the feeling of calm still lying upon her, Hermione couldn't help feeling a shiver of foreboding, and glancing over, she could tell the boys shared her thoughts.

"No need to look so concerned, it's not bad news," Dumbledore smiled. The smile faded though, and a more serious expression took its place. "It has just occurred to me that while I have asked for Harry's forgiveness for everything I have put him through, I have not yet apologized to Ron and Hermione."

Whatever they had been expecting, it was not that. Hermione was stunned and she saw Ron's eyes widen in surprise. "Apologize to us?" he said. "What for?"

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said, "I would have thought that was obvious. For the terrible burden that I placed on the two of you, by allowing Harry to reveal to you the awful secret of the Horcruxes. I must admit, it was not a casual decision. In the end, I knew he would have to be alone, but I hoped that it might not be until the very last. From all I've heard, you both rose to the occasion magnificently. I am very proud to have had the opportunity of being your headmaster." He smiled again. Hermione felt herself blushing and beside her, Ron's face matched his hair. "The wizarding world owes all three of you a debt of gratitude." This sentence was punctuated by renewed applause from the other portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Hermione could feel her cheeks positively burning now and Ron was nearly purple.

"Thank you," she managed and Ron nodded.

Harry laughed, clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, and said, "I don't know about you, but I could go for a sandwich."

Hermione and Ron both started laughing. "Best idea I've heard in days," Ron said.

Waving to the portraits still applauding them on the walls, the three of them headed out the door, back down the moving spiral staircase, and into the corridor below. Reality struck again as they took in the damage there. It was a sobering thought, knowing that the rest of the castle was in much the same shape, and worse to consider that the ruin of the castle was the least of the damage that had been done last night. But best to push that thought away for now, Hermione thought, trying hard to put up a wall before lifeless faces could flash in front of her eyes.

"Up to the common room, do you think?" Harry asked. "I wasn't kidding about the sandwiches. I'm starving and I'm pretty sure Kreacher would be happy to bring us up a plate."

"And I wasn't kidding when I said that's the best idea I've heard from anyone in days," Ron replied.

Hermione said nothing; the adrenaline of the night was finally seeping away and exhaustion was slowly taking its place. She simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other as they picked their way through the still-deserted corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. She didn't even register at first when Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. Harry looked back.

"Go on up, mate, we'll be there in a minute," Ron said.

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing and continued walking.

"What's up?" Hermione asked him.

Ron didn't answer. He led her over to a bit of a niche in the wall, where a massive vase had previously stood, judging by the shards now littering the floor.

"Ron?" Hermione asked again.

Still, he said nothing. They were now standing facing each other on either side of the alcove, which Hermione suddenly realized was not very big. They were very close together and she suddenly felt nervous and wished she had space to back up, but her back was already pressed against the wall. Ron was looking at her and she felt a thrill of something like adrenaline shoot through her. Hermione was beginning to understand what he was getting at, but she stood still. She had made the first move, back in the Room of Requirement. It was his call, now.

Ron took a step closer. He placed a hand on the wall on either side of her and Hermione felt her heart start to beat faster. He was still looking at her, as if waiting for her to stop him, but she didn't. Slowly, he leaned closer. And he kissed her.

How long it lasted, Hermione didn't know. It was enough just to stop thinking, to forget, and simply to feel. She let herself go, arms wrapped around Ron's neck, feeling one of his hands just below her shoulder blades, the other at the nape of her neck. Seven years of tension melted away and she was left with nothing but a feeling that this was precisely where she was supposed to be.

Exactly when the tears started, she didn't know. And whether she felt her own or his on her cheeks first, she couldn't have said. It was a sudden realization to find herself sobbing, face pressed against Ron's chest, and Ron shaking, his face buried in her hair and somehow they managed to sit down, side by side, and though she was still grasping his hand, hard, Hermione buried her face in her knees and wept her heart out.

Every emotion that she had held back the night before was bursting through the wall she had built, the wall she had been forced to make in order to get through, to do the job that had to be done. But now, it was all coming back in one overwhelming rush. And she was so tired of fighting. So she let it consume her: images of Fiendfyre, of Lavender being attacked by Greyback, of battling giants and acromantulas and killing curses flying through the night, of Snape bleeding to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, of Remus and Tonks cold and still, of Fred with the laughter still hovering in his features, and of one moment of pure horror on the front steps of Hogwarts. Hermione sobbed until she simply didn't have the energy to continue. And when she had managed to take several deep, shuddering breaths and gain a margin of control over herself, she turned to look at Ron.

His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was trembling. Tear tracks stood out starkly on his grimy face. He was still clutching her left hand tightly in his right. As if he could feel her watching him, he opened his eyes and turned to look at her. The blue was ringed all around with red and she doubted she looked much better. This was confirmed a moment later, when Ron said, "Blimey, Hermione, you look like hell."

This was such a wildly inappropriate statement given the circumstances that Hermione could do nothing but laugh. As hard as she had been crying before, she was now laughing, and Ron joined in weakly. She leaned over and hugged him. "You need to check a mirror before you go telling other people they look like hell," she whispered, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek.

Ron shrugged and held out his hand. They helped each other to their feet and then, still hand in hand, continued up to Gryffindor Tower. There were a few people in the common room, but they were grouped in their own little clusters and no one took much notice of them as they crossed to the staircase leading up to the boys' dormitories.

"Hope Kreacher really did bring a plate up," Ron said. "I'm starving."

"Me too," Hermione said. Strange as it was, food sounded amazing right then.

Walking into the dormitory and expecting to see only Harry and possibly Kreacher, they were momentarily stunned to find a small crowd in the room, all clustered around a heaping platter of sandwiches. Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati all turned as they came in.

"Girls aren't really allowed up here, you know," Seamus said thickly through a mouthful of bread and turkey.

"You lot should talk," Ron replied, nodding at Parvati.

She shrugged. "Our dormitory was empty and I didn't really want to be up there by myself. Then when Dean came down into the common room and said there were sandwiches up here, I decided to join them."

"How's Lavender?" Hermione asked as she and Ron approached the table.

Parvati's face crumpled. Dean put his arm around her. "She's—well, she's going to survive, Madam Pomfrey says, but she's hurt pretty badly. She broke quite a few bones when she fell over the banister and that foul beast Greyback left some scratches. Madam Pomfrey says she'll be okay, it'll all heal, but still," her voice broke and the sandwich in her hands trembled, "she looks awful."

There was silence for a few moments. They all stood with heads bowed as the reality of the situation crashed against them all again. Then Seamus swallowed his mouthful of food and the tension broke and Parvati looked straight at Hermione again.

"People who were in the entrance hall told me you were the one who blasted Greyback off of her after they fell." She came around the table and hugged Hermione tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

Hermione couldn't speak for a moment. She fought hard against the tears that were threatening to make a reappearance. "I'm glad she's going to be okay," was all she could think to say.

Parvati released her and they smiled at each other through tears. All four boys standing there looked slightly uncomfortable and were busying themselves with the food. Hermione turned her attention there, too, and as she did, she realized who was missing.

"Where's Harry?" she asked. There was just the slightest panicky inflection in her voice.

"He's over there," Neville said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Dead asleep." Then, realizing what he had just said from the looks they were all giving him, he quickly rephrased, "Fast asleep, I mean. He was out when we got back in here, but there was a note on the food," and he held up a bit of parchment that said "Help yourselves" in what Hermione recognized as Harry's writing, "so we did what it said."

Hermione walked a little closer to Harry's bed. He was sprawled on top of the covers, still fully clothed, his mouth open, and his glasses lopsided. He looked, in fact, exactly as he had when he was laid at Voldemort's feet and Hermione stared hard at his chest to make sure that it was rising and falling. Satisfied that he was merely getting some well-deserved rest, she gently removed his glasses and laid them on his bedside table. Harry didn't even move.

Turning back, she found the others staring at her. "What?" she asked defensively. "I wanted to be sure he was breathing. Can you blame me?"

They all shook their heads. "I did the same thing," Neville replied. "Just wanted to be sure." He looked seriously around at the rest. "That was something, what he did though, wasn't it? I couldn't have done it, walked right up to—V-Voldemort, and let him, well," Neville's voice trailed off.

There was silence. None of the rest could think of anything to say. Then, Ron said, slowly, "I don't know that anyone but Harry could have done what he had to do. Still, Neville, killing the snake and all, right in front of You-Know—V-Voldemort, that was pretty damn impressive."

There were murmurs of agreement and Neville flushed scarlet. He took a large bite, apparently to save himself from having to say anything.

Within a surprisingly short time, the plate was empty. With the last of the pumpkin juice, they held a quick toast, echoing, though they didn't know it, the witches and wizards of seventeen years ago, who had also held glasses aloft and whispered, "To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived."

Glasses empty and stomachs full, Hermione and Parvati together went to their own dormitory and the four boys climbed, fully clothed, into their beds. Within minutes, they were all fast asleep.

Chapter End Notes:

*this quote comes from page 749 of the American version of Deathly Hallows.


	2. Chapter 2: Rightful Places

*****A/N: Sorry for the confusion about this story, it is NOT a Harry/Hermione story. I had selected Harry, Hermione, and Ron to display as characters in the story, but the site apparently only displayed the first two. My bad. As far as romance, it's strictly canon: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny.*****

Harry woke with a start and sat straight up, reaching for his wand. For several confused moments, he looked around wildly, with absolutely no idea where he was. Then, slowly, as he took in the familiar shape of the room, with the five four posters draped in red hangings, sunlight streaming through the window, his heart rate slowed and he realized where he was: back at Hogwarts, in his own dormitory. Judging by the cacophony of snores coming from behind the hangings, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus must be here too. Relief, patterned with gut-wrenching regret, swept over him as the events of the past twenty-four hours replayed in his mind. He pressed his face to his knees as pain at the loss of Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and so many others hit him like a punch to the gut. He stayed sitting that way for several minutes, fighting hard against the howl of misery threatening to escape from him as images of the battle and its aftermath flashed across his eyelids as though someone were playing him a video-recording of it all. Finally, though, came the image of Voldemort, falling to the ground in the Great Hall, nothing left but the shell of a man who had made so many terrible choices and destroyed so many lives.

As he thought of that moment, he took a deep breath, finally managing to master himself, and sat up, absentmindedly rubbing his scar. Then, a truly amazing thought hit him: his scar would never hurt again. It was over, the bit of Voldemort's soul inside of him was gone and so was Voldemort himself. Never again would he have to share Voldemort's thoughts or have strange dreams about terrible deeds, or feel the sudden pain as the lightning scar burned on his forehead. It was finally finished. A feeling of glorious relief rushed through Harry so fast he felt light-headed and, in spite of his grief, he had to smile.

Looking around the room again, thinking that he had never before appreciated how wonderful it looked in the sunlight, he caught sight of the Elder Wand lying beside his own on his bedside table. He remembered what he had planned to do with it, but had been too tired to manage earlier. He wondered suddenly how long he had been asleep and, glancing at his watch, was shocked to discover that it was only noon: the battle had been over for less than six hours. No wonder he still felt as if he could sleep for a week. But now that he was awake, there were things that he wanted to take care of; it was time for things to be put back in their rightful places, time to try to restore some form of order to the world.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he put on his glasses, wondering briefly who had taken them off because he had no recollection of having done so, and holding both the Elder Wand and his own, he made his way out of the dormitory. He hesitated as he passed Ron's bed, but there was no real reason to wake him up and besides, this was something Harry felt he'd rather do on his own.

His plan fell to pieces, though, as he entered the common room, which was empty except for one person, curled up in an armchair before the embers of the dying fire. Even from across the room, Harry could see the top of her head, her hair the color of the last of the flames. Throat tight, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping, Harry moved slowly across the room.

But Ginny wasn't asleep. She turned her head at the sound of his footsteps and he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks; the sight made his chest hurt. She stood up and Harry stopped, just three feet away. He wanted to hold her, to tell her it would be alright, to say he was sorry for the whole mess that she'd had to be a part of, that her whole family had been a part of, but he was afraid to move closer. What if she didn't want to be with him anymore? Or worse, what if she blamed him for Fred's death? And so he stood there.

Ginny regarded him for a moment. Then, like a sleepwalker, she stepped towards him, closing the gap between them. Not tearing her eyes away from his, she gently placed one hand on each side of his face, drew him towards her, and kissed him. Harry returned her embrace with enthusiasm. He could feel again, like last July 31st, the golden bubble swelling inside his chest and, this time, there was no rude interruption to destroy it.

After some time, they broke apart. Ginny's face was still tear-stained, but her eyes were blazing and Harry felt finally, truly happy for the first time in months.

"Wow," was all he could think to say.

Ginny smiled then. "Had to make up for all that lost time. And make you forget about those veela I'm sure you met, of course."

Harry laughed. "Blew them right out of my mind."

Ginny laughed, too. "So where are you off to?" she asked at the same moment that Harry said, "What were you doing down here?"

Both of them laughed this time, and it felt so good, so normal, that for awhile they couldn't stop. Finally, Ginny got a grip and said, "I just couldn't sleep. Where are you off to?" she repeated.

"Dumbledore's tomb." When she looked surprised, Harry held up the Elder Wand. "It's time to put this back where it belongs." And although he'd previously thought that he wanted to go alone, it seemed completely natural to instead ask Ginny, "Care to join me?"

"Absolutely."

Hand in hand they left the Gryffindor common room and made their way down through the partly demolished castle, not talking much, just enjoying being together. As they walked down the steps and out onto the grounds, though, Ginny shivered.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked quickly, looking around.

Ginny shook her head. "Just remembering this morning. You have no idea how horrible it was to see Hagrid lay you at You-Kno—V-Voldemort's feet. I tried to block it out, but coming down the front steps just now, I couldn't help it." She shuddered again.

Harry squeezed her hand, hard. "When I heard you and Ron and Hermione, and McGonagall too, scream when you came out of the castle, it took everything I had not to call back. You have no idea how badly I wanted to let you know I was actually okay."

She squeezed his hand back. "It all worked out. But tell me one thing," and she looked at him hard, "did you walk past me on the grounds, on your way to the forest? Because I could've sworn, at one point, that someone passed by me and there was no one there when I looked."

"Yeah, I did," Harry admitted. "I stopped, for just a second. What I really wanted to do was take off the cloak and let you stop me from going." He looked down at their joined hands. "But considering how things turned out, I guess it's just as well I didn't do that."

Ginny had that blazing look in her eyes again as she looked at him and Harry couldn't stop himself from leaning down and kissing her, just because he could.

When they began walking again, Ginny said, "I didn't believe him at first when he said you were, well, you know, but when I heard Professor McGonagall, right before I got out there, I knew." She suddenly sounded as though she had a head-cold and didn't say anymore.

"That got me, too," Harry said after a minute during which he looked away, giving Ginny a chance to swipe her sleeve across her eyes. "I'd never have believed Professor McGonagall could sound like that. And speaking of…"

They had nearly reached Dumbledore's tomb and beside it they could see a familiar figure, collecting up bits and pieces of broken marble and laying them neatly beside the tomb.

Professor McGonagall jumped as Harry and Ginny approached.

"Potter! Miss Weasley! What are you two doing out here?" She didn't sound reprimanding, more surprised, yet habit had Harry feeling guilty.

"Just putting this back where it belongs," he said, holding up the Elder Wand.

Professor McGonagall looked surprised. "Are you sure, Potter? It's rightfully yours now, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would understand if you wanted to keep it."

Harry nodded. "I'm sure he would, Professor, but the truth is, I don't want it. I don't need any more deranged wizards trying to hunt me down and kill me. I've had about enough of that."

Both Professor McGonagall and Ginny laughed at that. "Very well, Potter, if you're sure," Professor McGonagall said.

"I am," Harry said. Letting go of Ginny's hand, he stepped forward, right up to the edge of the tomb, and peered down at the wise old face, looking merely peacefully asleep. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, and he placed the Elder Wand carefully back into its old owner's hands.

Stepping back to stand between Ginny and Professor McGonagall, Harry felt a sense of calm steal over him. The Elder Wand had been there at just the right moment, exactly when he most needed it, but this was where it belonged; this felt right.

"Rest in peace, Albus," Professor McGonagall murmured, raising her wand and sending every last marble shard back to its proper place; within seconds, the tomb was repaired so perfectly it might never have been broken into at all.

The three of them stood there quietly for a minute. The day was warm and sunny, insects could be heard buzzing in the grass and birds were twittering in the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The giant squid was propelling itself lazily across the lake, just as it had so many times before. Just another day at Hogwarts. Harry felt almost as if he should be studying for exams.

"Well then," Professor McGonagall said finally, breaking the spell of the grounds, "I should be getting back up to the castle, to supervise the reconstruction." She turned to look at the beat-up building and both Harry and Ginny followed her gaze. "We took blows last night, there's no denying it, but what's been torn down can be mended. It will take much more than a pack of Death Eaters to bring down Hogwarts!" She said this last bit with a fierce pride and Harry felt another swoop of affection for Minerva McGonagall.

She began to walk towards the school, but turned back after a few steps and said, "Potter, I am glad you are alright."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Professor. You too."

She smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and made her way back up to the castle.

They watched her go, all the way back up the steps and through the damaged double doors. Then, Harry turned to look down at Ginny to find her already looking at him. The look on her face sent his stomach flipping. "Shall we—I mean, fancy a walk about the grounds?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. The two of them set off around the edge of the lake, looking for a spot to sit down and, if they had time, talk about the events of the past year.


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting with the Minister

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry turned from where he was repairing the banister on the marble staircase in the entrance hall to see Neville hurrying towards him. Harry had gotten cleaned up after he and Ginny had come back in from the grounds, but Neville was still covered in blood, soot, dust, and a surprisingly large quantity of dirt.

"What's up?" Harry asked as Neville reached him.

"I was helping Professor Sprout fix up the greenhouses when what looked like a Patronus came down and it said Kingsley wants to see you and Ron and Hermione," Neville said. "And me, too, for some reason."

"He probably wants to give you your Order of Merlin, Neville," Ron said as he and Hermione walked over; they had been repairing the hourglasses that recorded house points. "Harry, Hermione, and I are probably going to be arrested, though."

"What? Why?" Neville asked, looking almost as surprised as Harry and Hermione.

"For breaking into Gringotts, of course," Ron replied, grinning.

Harry and Neville laughed, but Hermione looked worried.

"Oh you don't think they would do that, do you?" she asked. "After all, we weren't stealing for ourselves, we were trying to destroy Voldemort!"

"Hermione, I was joking," Ron said, throwing an arm over her shoulders. "Besides, I'm pretty sure if Kingsley even tried to arrest Harry, there'd be a revolt. No one wants 'The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again' locked up."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Neville and Ron grinned and even Hermione gave a small smile. "Come on, we can't keep the Minister waiting," she said, leading the way up the marble staircase.

"We'll be back in a bit, Ginny!" Harry called.

Ginny waved from where she was standing near the double doors to the grounds, repairing the battered wood. "I'll let McGonagall know where you've gone!"

Harry watched her walk into the Great Hall, where McGonagall was supervising the repairs, his mind wandering to their stolen time on the grounds not so long ago. However, realizing that Ron, Hermione, and Neville were already at the top of the staircase, Harry shook his head to bring himself back to the present and hurried to catch up.

Kingsley had set up his temporary office in the Transfiguration classroom. He was working out of Hogwarts rather than the Ministry at the moment because, as the Daily Prophet had already quoted him as saying this morning, "Hogwarts, unlike the Ministry of Magic, was never fully under the control of Lord Voldemort. The Minister's office will be operating out of Hogwarts until such a time as the snakes have been completely cleaned out of the Ministry premises." Harry knew that multiple arrests had already been made, not least satisfying of which had been Dolores Umbridge, who was currently being transported to Azkaban to await trial for crimes against Muggle-borns. Harry smirked upon recalling this information.

Two Aurors flanked the door of the Minister's office, but as they saw Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville approach, they saluted and one, a burly, bearded man, hurried to open the door for them.

"Er—thanks," Harry said, leading the way into the classroom.

"My pleasure, Mr. Potter," the man said. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom." He nodded formally to Hermione, Ron, and Neville as they passed him as well. Hermione looked bemused, Neville turned pink, but Ron seemed rather delighted. Concealing a grin, Harry made his way towards the front of the classroom, where Kingsley was sitting behind McGonagall's desk.

The Minister looked up as he heard them approach. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat," he said in his deep, slow voice, gesturing towards the front row of desks.

They sat, Harry starting to feel unaccountably nervous. Kingsley was regarding them seriously. They weren't about to be arrested, were they? Harry ran through a mental list of everything they had done the past year and had to admit that between the break-ins at the Ministry and Gringotts, not to mention all the Apparating without a license, there were grounds for it. He was just beginning to compile arguments for exactly why they had broken the law, when his fears were put to rest. Kingsley smiled.

"Well done," he said. Harry very nearly breathed a sigh of relief. "The wizarding world owes you all a debt of gratitude."

"Thank you," Harry said. "Congratulations, by the way. I can't think of anyone better for Minister."

"Thank you, Harry. This is only temporary at the moment. In a few weeks, once the situation has stabilized, the wizarding world will be allowed to choose, once again."

"You'll have my vote," Harry said.

"Mine as well," Ron said. Hermione and Neville both nodded fervently.

"Thank you all," Kingsley smiled again, "but I did not call you up here to solicit votes, though I certainly appreciate the support." He looked serious again. "Harry, I must tell you, something you said to Voldemort shocked me. The reference to 'Horcruxes'. I take it he had made one?"

Harry's mouth went dry. His heart seemed to be pounding rather harder than normal. He only had a split second to make his decision. Dumbledore had told him only Ron and Hermione—but Dumbledore was gone. And so was Voldemort. So was there really any point to the absolute secrecy anymore? He could feel Ron and Hermione watching him closely, but he didn't look at them. He knew what choice he was going to make. He shook his head. "He didn't make one." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione bite her lip. "He made seven. Six on purpose, one by accident. I was the accident."

Harry finally glanced at Hermione and Ron. Hermione had visibly relaxed and she gave him a small smile, which he returned. Ron looked surprised, but as Harry met his eyes, he nodded.

Kingsley looked horrified. "That's not possible."

"It is," Harry said, turning back to look at the Minister. "It's why Voldemort became less human-looking over the years. He'd gone past, as Dumbledore said, 'usual evil'. That's why he created an accidental Horcrux; he'd made his soul so unstable that when the curse rebounded the first time he tried to kill me, a bit broke off and attached itself," he swallowed, "to me."

Kingsley just looked at him, stunned, and Harry reflected that this was the first time he had ever seen the man lose his cool.

He kept talking, to give Kingsley a chance to collect himself. "He purposely created six Horcruxes. One was Tom Riddle's diary, which Lucius Malfoy gave to Ginny Weasley to open the Chamber of Secrets five years ago, but I destroyed that one with a basilisk fang. He also used a ring that had belonged to his grandfather, but Dumbledore destroyed that with the sword of Gryffindor last year. Then, he stole Salazar Slytherin's locket and Helga Hufflepuff's cup from a woman and made them Horcruxes. That's why Ron, Hermione, and I broke into the Ministry and into Gringotts; Dolores Umbridge had obtained the locket, even though she didn't know what it was, and the cup was in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault; we had to get them.

"Ron destroyed the locket with the sword of Gryffindor and Hermione stabbed the cup with a basilisk fang. He also used Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem as one but that was, somewhat accidentally, destroyed last night by Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement." He paused, wondering whether to mention Crabbe, but decided to leave it for the moment. "Then, when Voldemort used the Killing Curse on me in the forest, instead of killing me, it killed his own bit of soul that was in me and then Neville killed the snake, which was at that point the last Horcrux. Once he cut off its head, there was only Voldemort left. And he got hit by his own rebounding curse, again, but this time, with no Horcruxes left, he just…died," Harry finished.

There was silence for several minutes. Kingsley still looked aghast, but Harry couldn't really think of anything else to say.

Neville tentatively raised his hand and everyone turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, "but what exactly is a Horcrux and how did I destroy one by killing the snake?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, hoping that her need to deliver word-perfect textbook answers was still present. It was.

"A Horcrux is an object in which a Dark Wizard has concealed of piece of his or her soul, the soul having been torn apart as a result of a murder committed by the Dark Wizard," she answered. She then gave Neville and Kingsley the same explanation about how Horcruxes worked that she had given Harry and Ron what felt like a hundred years ago in Ron's bedroom before the wedding.

"…and so, when you killed the snake, thereby putting it beyond magical repair, you simultaneously destroyed the Horcrux," she finished.

Neville looked thunderstruck. "Whoa," was all he managed to say.

Kingsley was staring hard at Harry. "So Mad-Eye was right," he muttered.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Mad-Eye wondered if that was what Voldemort had done, created a Horcrux, but he could never get Dumbledore to give an opinion on the subject," Kingsley replied.

"Mad-Eye knew?" Harry said, stunned by this revelation.

"He guessed," Kingsley corrected him. "He'd been fighting the Dark Arts long enough to pick up a few things and he told Remus and I it was the only thing that made sense, it explained why Voldemort was able to continue to exist after the curse rebounded, why he was able to return. He even ran the theory by Dumbledore, several times, but Dumbledore neither agreed nor disagreed with it. Mad-Eye eventually got frustrated with him, stopped bringing it up." Kingsley smiled again. "He'd be pleased to know he was right."

There was silence for several moments. Harry knew that Ron and Hermione, like himself, were processing this surprising revelation and Neville seemed to be trying to fully understand the implications of what he was hearing and what he himself had done. Kingsley, reminding Harry strangely of Dumbledore, simply sat quietly, still watching them.

It was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss with us, Kingsley?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I mean, Minister?" she quickly corrected herself, blushing.

Kingsley smiled at her. "That's alright, Hermione," he replied. "And as a matter of fact, yes, there is one more thing." He looked serious again. "I understand from Professor McGonagall, Harry and Ron, that you both spoke in your career meetings several years ago about wanting to be Aurors?"

"You did?" Hermione asked, quickly turning to look, not at Harry, but at Ron. He had turned a bit red, but looked defiantly at her.

"You knew I'd talked about wanting to do that," he said.

"Yes, but I didn't realize you were serious enough about it to discuss it with McGonagall!"

"Why, you don't think I'll be good enough?" Ron asked her, his ears turning scarlet.

Hermione looked shocked. "Of course not! I think you'll be brilliant! I'm just surprised, that's all, you'd never mentioned discussing it with her."

Ron shrugged, but he looked rather pleased with her praise. "It never came up. Weren't those meetings the day you spent every spare minute nagging Harry not to break into Umbridge's office?"

Hermione glared at him, but Harry snorted a laugh, remembering the shouting match between McGonagall and Umbridge.

"Sorry about that, Kings—Minister," Ron said, turning back to Kingsley. "I think the answer you were looking for is 'yes', we did."

Kingsley had raised his eyebrows, but he continued as if the conversation had been uninterrupted. "Then, in that case, I would like to make you all a job offer. Not just to Harry and Ron, but to Hermione and Neville, as well. The Auror office has been sadly depleted over the last several years, as you can imagine. We need people with a strong understanding of the Dark Arts, people who have proven themselves capable in a fight, individuals who are both resourceful and quick-thinking, possessing both a highly specific yet varied skill set." He paused. "From everything I know, you all fit that description exactly. I would like to extend to each of you a formal offer of employment."

It was Harry's turn to feel stunned. He had wanted to be an Auror ever since impostor Moody had first put the thought in his head, but he had never expected to get the job offer without preamble, not after what McGonagall had told him about the strenuous tests the office conducted on potential candidates. But then, a little voice in his head said, I suppose everything we've done the past year was more difficult than any test could ever be.

He looked at the others. Ron looked as stunned as he felt, yet excited, too. Hermione looked confused. Neville looked as if someone had clubbed him.

"An Auror? But I haven't really—" Neville started to say, but Harry cut across him.

"You fought with me in the Department of Mysteries fifth year, sixth year you fought the Death Eaters in Hogwarts, and you led Dumbledore's Army against the Carrows all this year," he said firmly. "Not to mention standing up to Voldemort himself and killing the snake just a few hours ago."

Neville turned brightly pink, but looked rather pleased. Before either he or Harry could say anthing else, Hermione spoke.

"But what about our N.E.W.T.S?" she asked, looking very worried. "I thought, to be an Auror, you needed to get at least five 'Exceeds Expectations' N.E.W.T.S. So don't we need to finish our last year at school?"

Ron groaned and Harry rolled his eyes. However, before either of them could say anything, Kingsley spoke. "Given everything that you have all done in the past year alone, we, the Ministry, are willing to make an exception. There are people who have worked in the Auror office for decades who have not faced half as much."

Hermione opened her mouth again and Harry had a strong desire to clap his hand over it. However, Kingsley quickly added, "If you wish to finish your education, I would completely understand." Hermione shut her mouth again. "I am not asking for a decision today," the Minister continued. "I wanted to let you know what was on the table and that we would be glad to have you all join us. However, I understand that there may be other interests which you wish to pursue and so I would like you all to take some time to think about it, then make your decision.

"In any case," he continued, "I would not want you to begin immediately. This week, I understand, is largely to be given to repairs to the castle, and next week, there will be funerals." Harry clenched his jaw against the burning in his throat. Kingsley swallowed hard, then continued, "Shall we say, then, that I will take your answers in a month? That will, I believe, allow you sufficient time to consider your answers, as well as give you time to grieve and, also, to relax. After what you have told me," Kingsley smiled grimly, "I believe you've earned a bit of a break."

Ron gave a hollow laugh, Neville a weak chuckle. Hermione looked strained, and Harry felt drained; the mention of funerals had seemed to suck the energy out of the room. Suddenly, he felt exhausted, as if he could sleep for a month.

Kingsley seemed to have noticed the shift. He said hesitatingly, "There's to be an awards ceremony at the end of the week."

Harry's head shot up. "A what?" An awards ceremony? Before the funerals?

Kingsley seemd to read Harry's mind. "Initially, I know, it seems inappropriate to give awards before we lay the dead to rest, but the idea is that many of those who died will be receiving formal recognition of their sacrifice and we believe their loved ones will appreciate the opportunity to be able to say at their funerals that they were a recipient of the Order of Merlin."

Almost against his will, Harry looked at Ron. He was looking at Kingsley, stony-faced. Between them, Hermione had tears in her eyes. On Harry's other side, Neville's jaw was set. Turning back to the Minister, Harry nodded. "I think that's a good idea," he managed to say, despite the constriction of his throat.

Kingsley nodded back. "I'm glad you think so," he said. He paused, as if unsure what to say next, then simply said, "I think that is all I had for today. Thank you for meeting with me. I hope you will consider particularly the offers I have made to you."

Understanding the dismissal, Harry stood up. Ron, Hermione, and Neville followed suit. "We will," Harry replied, already moving towards the door. "Thank you, Kingsley."

"No, Harry," Kingsley said, looking hard at him again, "thank you."

With a small smile and a nod, Harry led the way out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4: Running into the Weasleys

As soon as they had gotten out of earshot of the Aurors flanking Kingsley's door, Ron cornered Harry. He had a mulish look on his face and Harry wondered if he was about to be called out to account for where he had gone with Ginny that morning. He remembered his promise to Ron that he wouldn't "mess her around" anymore, but he wasn't messing her around; he had the possibility of a future now, for the first time, and he was becoming quite certain that he wanted Ginny in it.

As he was forming an argument, though, Ron spoke. "I want to tell my family."

"I'm not—wait, what?" Harry, his mind still on Ginny, was caught off-guard. "Well, they'll know pretty soon anyway, won't they?"

Ron looked at him strangely. "How would they know? No one knew, not until you told Kingsley and Neville just now."

Harry's mind was starting to catch up to the conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly; if Ron wasn't going to start an argument about it, Harry certainly wasn't going to bring up Ginny. "So, er, what exactly do you want to tell your family?"

Ron looked a bit confused, but let it go. He took a deep breath and said again, "I want to tell my family what you told Kingsley and Neville. About what we've been up to, about the Horcruxes. I think they should know." He seemed ready for a fight, but Harry couldn't agree more.

"Yeah, I think so, too," he replied. "Look," he added hastily, because Hermione had opened her mouth and Harry had no idea what she was going to say, which was potentially dangerous, "I know what Dumbledore said, that it was just supposed to be the three of us, but Dumbledore's gone and Voldemort's gone now, too, so what's the point of the secrecy? I don't think we should shout about what happened, I don't want to give people ideas, we don't need another Voldemort, but some people have, you know, earned the right to know, or something like that."

Hermione, who seemed to know why he had cut her off, gave him a dirty look. "I agree with you," she said. "And I was going to add that I'd like to be able to tell my parents, too, once I find them and reverse the Memory Charm. They deserve a good explanation of why I did that to them."

"Luna, too," Neville said quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Luna, too, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and the Weasleys. And that's about everyone who needs to know, I think."

The others nodded their agreement, then, Neville excused himself to go back to the greenhouses to help Professor Sprout. Harry started to follow him back to the entrance hall, but Ron stopped him.

"Actually, Harry, Mum wanted to see you, when you had a minute," he said.

Harry felt as if a bucket of ice had just cascaded into his stomach. He hadn't purposely been avoiding every Weasley besides Ron and Ginny, but he had been secretly glad not to run into any of them. He felt horribly responsible for Fred's death because if he'd just given himself up the first time, maybe no one else would have died. It wasn't much of a comfort telling himself that if he'd done that the diadem might not have been destroyed.

Something of these thoughts must have shown on Harry's face, because Hermione said quietly, "No one blames you, Harry."

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, "it wasn't your fault. Mum's not going to curse you, she wants to talk to you. Honestly, I'd warn you if she were upset, but she's not, not at you anyway."

Harry nodded. "Where is she?" he asked dully.

"She was in the common room last time I saw her," Ron replied. "C'mon."

The three of them began to tread the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower and for one wild moment, despite the icy, leaden feeling in his stomach, Harry felt a stupendous burst of happiness.

This feeling evaporated quickly, though, as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor and nearly ran into not only Mrs. Weasley, but Mr. Weasley, Percy, and George.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug to rival one of Hagrid's. "Oh my dear, we are so glad that you're alright!"

Harry hugged her back, but his throat was so tight that he couldn't speak. The fact that she had instantly hugged him, seemed genuinely happy to see him and glad that he was alright, was nearly unbearable to him. He could feel his eyes burning and closed them tight to keep the tears back as Mrs. Weasley continued to hold him tightly.

"I'm sorry," Harry finally managed to say, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley pulled back so that she was holding him at arm's length. "Thank you, dear," she whispered. There were tears glistening in her eyes, which were already puffy and red, with deep bags beneath them; she looked as if she had been crying for hours, which, Harry reflected with a guilty twist to his intestines, she probably had been. Then, in a firmer voice, she said, "But don't you dare go blaming yourself. It was not your fault, Harry," and she gave him a very tiny shake. "None of this was your fault. Do you understand me?" She looked him straight in the eye and Harry could see the heart-break bubbling beneath the resilient surface.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he replied, because it was the only thing he could say.

She nodded and patted his cheek. "Hermione, dear, I'm so glad to see you safe and sound," and she turned to pull Hermione into a hug as well, leaving Harry to face Mr. Weasley, who held out his hand. Harry shook it.

"Harry, we know we aren't your parents, but Molly and I want you to know that we are as proud of you as we are of any of our children," Mr. Weasley said. "You're a part of this family, we want you to know that."

There was something in Mr. Weasley's expression that made Harry think that the man knew Harry had been avoiding them all day because of Fred. Harry was so overwhelmed by what he had said, and the fact that they still wanted to talk to him at all, that he couldn't answer, he could only nod in reply, but he knew Mr. Weasley understood.

Percy also stepped forward with his hand out. "Harry, good to see you again," he said formally.

Harry almost laughed as he shook Percy's hand. After everything that had happened, the fact that Percy still retained some of his pompousness was strangely comforting.

Any desire to laugh, though, died as he turned, almost against his will, to face George. This was the first time Harry had seen him up close since Fred died. He didn't look as if he'd cried at all. He looked disturbingly normal, except for the shock that was still visible in his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't completely processed what had happened yet. Harry remembered how he had felt after Sirius had died, his refusal to accept the bare fact, and he thought that was probably how George was feeling about now.

"George," he said, with absolutely no idea of what he was going to say next, but before he could continue, George threw his arms around his neck and hugged him so hard Harry thought his head might actually pop off his neck. Not sure what to do, Harry simply patted him on the back until George let him go.

"Er—thanks," Harry said, rubbing his neck. "But what—I mean—"

"The joke shop," George said fiercely, his eyes burning. "Without you, we would have never been able to open it so soon. Thanks to you, we got to, Fred got to, do exactly what we'd wanted to do since we were five. We'll never, I'll never, be able to repay you for that."

Harry's mind was blank. He gulped and managed a nod at George; he felt as if the mass of gratitude and grief swelling inside of his chest was compressing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Just as he was about to succumb to the howl of emotion building inside him, he felt a warm hand in his and Ginny's voice said, "It's okay, Harry."

The faces in front of him were a blur, but Harry squeezed Ginny's hand tightly and found his voice. "I just—I can't tell you all—," he couldn't continue, couldn't put into words what it meant to him to have them all standing there, calling him a part of the family when a part of their family had just died.

"We know, dear," Mrs. Weasley said in a slightly choked voice.

There was silence but for a few sniffles. Then Ginny said, as brightly as possible, "We'd better get back down to the Great Hall. McGonagall sent me up to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she said the Minister had his time, and she needed as many hands as possible to help with repairs if this place was going to be ready by the end of the week for the dratted awards ceremony."

There were a few small laughs before they all broke up to continue the castle repairs.


	5. Chapter 5: The Awards Ceremony, Part 1

*****Hi all, just a quick note, this will be the second-to-last chapter in this story. The awards ceremony was originally one chapter, but because it was so long, I split it into two parts. The second half will be up tomorrow! Thanks again for reading!*****

Harry tugged at the neck of his dress robes, uncomfortably aware of the hundreds of eyes boring into the back of his head as the witches and wizards who had been invited to attend the awards ceremony filled the Great Hall.

"Harry, stop fidgeting!" Hermione hissed. "And Ron, for heaven's sake, put your wand away, you've just turned that table-leg blue!"

"Oh, right, sorry," Ron muttered, stuffing his wand back in his pocket. He had been twirling it absent-mindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as Harry felt.

Hermione, sitting between them, rolled her eyes, pulled out her own wand, quickly fixed the table-leg, and put it away again. She didn't really look any happier than the two boys to be there. Though the three of them had agreed that Kingsley's idea of giving out awards to those who had died so that their families would be able to echo the recognition at their funerals was a good one, they were not looking forward to the part where they would be accepting their own awards.

"Harry and I already have 'Special Awards for Services to the School'," Ron had said grumpily earlier in the week, when Kingsley had informed them that they would be sitting in specially reserved seats in the front row. "They ought to just give Hermione one, too, and call it even."

Harry was surprised to discover that Hermione and even Ron were as reluctant to accept an award for what they had done as he himself. But Hermione had pointed out, "It's like you said fifth year: It all sounds much cooler than it actually was. I expect they'll be leaving out the parts where all we did was sit in a tent and bicker for months on end."

Ginny had quickly become annoyed with all of them. "People just want to say thank you," she had finally burst out last night. "They're glad that you did it so they didn't have to! And I think you three should just be grateful that you'll actually be able to walk up and accept whatever award they want to give you. Not everyone will be able to do that." She had glared at them all before furiously wiping the tears away with her sleeve. Properly shamed into silence by the thought of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, and the others who would be receiving posthumous awards the next day, none of them had complained again.

But though he had seen the truth of her words, Harry was still uncomfortable sitting there, waiting to hear whatever speech Kingsley was going to give. Harry had met with the Minister several more times over the past week, to give more details of exactly what he, Ron, and Hermione had done. He had done it mostly to ensure that the proper people got credit, good or bad, for what they had done, including Dobby, Snape, Umbridge, and Fenrir Greyback. Neville had joined them once to give Kingsley a full account of what had been happening at Hogwarts; this had the double benefit of giving the Minister a list of people to keep tabs on and another list of people to reward for their courage under the Carrows' regime. Harry had to admit that if everyone who deserved it got one, the Order of Merlin would be a temporarily cheap commodity.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a soft hand on his arm. He caught a whiff of flowery scent as Ginny leaned forward and quickly kissed his cheek. "Just let them thank you and then you can move on with your life," she whispered, giving his arm a squeeze. Harry reached over to grasp her hand, grateful again that she was there, that she still wanted to be with him, that she didn't blame him for her brother's death.

Ginny squeezed his arm again, then sat back up. She was sitting between her mother and George in the row behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were alone in the front row, a set-up that Harry was not thrilled about. Glancing back, Harry saw Ginny reach for George's hand, where it was hanging limply at his side. He seemed surprised when she took it, but then gave her a small, tight smile. He saw Harry watching and almost managed a wink. Harry gave a tiny smile back.

Looking away from George, Harry examined the repaired Great Hall. He had to admit that it didn't look as if there had ever been a battle fought in the place. It looked as it always had, the only strange thing today being the hundreds of golden chairs taking the place of the four long house tables and the golden stage in the place of the teacher's table. Harry was reminded of the stage on which Gilderoy Lockhart had once stood at the first and last disastrous meeting of the Dueling Club. The walls of the Hall were hung with the banners displaying the symbols of the four houses, with the great banner of the Hogwarts crest hanging behind the stage, and black drapes interspersed throughout, in honor of the fallen. Harry had to admit that although he was loathing the event, it had been tastefully done.

The general noise of the crowd died suddenly as Kingsley walked onto the stage wearing sweeping purple robes, accompanied by McGonagall in emerald green. Half a dozen other witches and wizards followed them onto the stage; among them Harry recognized Griselda Marchbanks, the O.W.L examiner and member of the Wizengamot. He assumed that they must all be upper Ministry officials, probably the ones who had decided on the awards.

Kingsley stepped to the magnificent golden podium that had been erected in the middle of the stage.

"Welcome," he said, his deep voice magically magnified so that it could be heard clearly even by those seated in the last row of golden chairs against the back wall. "A week ago today, a battle was fought at Hogwarts. It ended within this very room as Harry Potter defeated the self-styled Lord Voldemort." Harry tried to ignore the rustling as hundreds of heads turned in his direction again. Hermione squeezed his hand and Harry returned the pressure, looking determinedly at Kingsley. The Minister continued, "Mr. Potter showed incredible bravery that day, but he was not the only one. We are here tonight to honor those who fought against Voldemort, both at the Battle of Hogwarts and before. Many of those we will be recognizing tonight gave their lives to end the reign of terror and prejudice under which we were all living." Kingsley paused to look around at the crowd, many of whom seemed to be hanging on his every word. Though the _Daily Prophet_ had been running stories almost exclusively dealing with the battle over the past week, many of the details remained unknown outside the castle. Harry wondered if many of those who had shown up today had done so, not to honor the fighters of Hogwarts, but in the hope of hearing firsthand what had happened. The thought disgusted him.

Kingsley was speaking again, and Harry forced himself to listen. "The courage that has been shown by the witches and wizards who will be crossing this stage is a true testament to everything good that the Order of Merlin was meant to represent. We will begin with the awards of the Order of Merlin, Third Class. I would ask those whose names are called to come forward onto the stage for the presentation."

Among the recipients of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, were Charlie Weasley, Horace Slughorn, and the other reinforcements who had come shortly before the end of the battle. Other recipients were witches and wizards who had helped Muggle-born friends and family members avoid the Muggle-born Registration Commission, as well as those who had done their best to shield Muggle friends and neighbors from Death Eater attacks. Harry realized again how much else had been going on while they had been hunting Horcruxes, how many other people had been resisting Voldemort's regime.

Kingsley reached the end of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, awards and moved immediately into the Order of Merlin, Second Class. These awards seemed to be going to all those who had actually been at the Battle of Hogwarts and he watched as one by one Luna, Hagrid, all of the Weasley's besides Charlie and Ron (and Fred), Flitwick, Sprout, Firenze, Trelawney and many of the other teachers, Oliver Wood, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Cho, Lee, Dennis, Angelina, Alicia, Katie and the rest of Dumbledore's Army (besides Zacharias Smith and Marietta Edgecombe), Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pince, Filch, and various other students and staff, crossed the stage to receive their medals. Professor McGonagall stood to receive hers from Kingsley and he received his from Griselda Marchbanks. Augusta Longbottom was the last to receive the Order of Merlin, Second Class, and she walked imperiously across the stage to take her medal from the Minister.

Many of those receiving the Second Class medal smiled or nodded at Harry as they crossed the stage, and he smiled back. This was the part of the ceremony he was happy to see, because he knew all of these awards were well-deserved. Augusta Longbottom actually stopped to shake his hand as she returned to her seat, saying, "Quite nicely done, Mr. Potter, I must say."

Harry realized, as Mrs. Longbottom continued to her seat beside her grandson in the third row, that Neville had not been called up with the rest of Dumbledore's Army, or with his grandmother. He didn't have time to dwell on this, though, as Kingsley was speaking again.

"We will now move on to the Order of Merlin, First Class. This is a high honor and reflects a level of bravery not often seen. We have chosen tonight to award it almost exclusively to those who sacrificed their lives in the pursuit of a better world. When a recipient's name is called, I would like one member of each family to come up to receive the award for those who cannot come up here to receive it themselves." Kingsley looked around, taking in the whole hall. "I would also like to request a moment of silence for each of the departed as their name is called."

As family members approached the stage while Kingsley read off the names of the over fifty people who had died at the battle of Hogwarts, Harry realized that most of those packing the hall were not merely gawkers wishing to learn details of last week's battle but the families and friends of those who were receiving awards. The place was full, not of those looking for macabre entertainment, but of those seeking comfort for the horrible losses they had sustained. He suddenly felt much better about the whole thing.

There weren't many smiles from the family members receiving the posthumous First Class Order of Merlin medals. Some were in tears, particularly parents who received the award for their son or daughter, but others looked grimly proud as they accepted the medal and shook the Minister's hand. Dennis Creevey, who accepted Colin's award, seemed somewhere in-between. His small face was tear-streaked, but he held his head high as he shook Kingsley's hand. He walked off the stage clutching the red velvet box so hard his knuckles were white and his hands were shaking.

Andromeda Tonks walked onto the stage with her grandson in her arms to receive Tonks' and Lupin's medals. Harry had gotten to meet his godson for the first time in the entrance hall shortly before the ceremony started. He was a happy, chubby baby who had changed his hair color to emerald green as he looked at Harry when Andromeda had handed him the baby to hold. It changed to the same purple as Kingsley's robes when Andromeda approached the Minister. Kingsley tried to hand Andromeda the boxes containing the medals, but she shook her head.

"Their son will be accepting their awards," she said quietly, holding up Teddy.

Kingsley didn't protest, but instead opened each box and pinned the medals to the front of Teddy's romper. He laughed and grabbed for the shiny things and there were smiles in the audience through tears. Andromeda nodded to Harry as she returned to her seat and Teddy, catching sight of him again, turned his hair green. Stifling a laugh, Harry turned back to the stage, wiping his sleeve quickly across his eyes.

Hagrid stepped up to accept a medal for Mad-Eye Moody. Harry was surprised but pleased. He and Kingsley hadn't discussed Mad-Eye but Kingsley had been there that night when the old ex-Auror had died and he clearly hadn't forgotten. Hagrid blew his nose loudly as he returned to his seat at the end of the row of Hogwarts teachers.

When Kingsley called Snape's name, Harry was unsure whether he should go up. He doubted anyone else would, but his dilemma was solved by McGonagall, who stood up from her seat behind Kingsley and stepped forward to take the medal.

"We will be placing this in the head's office," she announced, "beneath his portrait." She looked at Harry as she said it. They had had a rather lengthy discussion about this a few days ago. In the end, she had agreed with Harry that Snape's portrait should hang beside the other headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts.

George crossed the stage when Kingsley said, "Fred Weasley." George was stark white, but his hands were steady as he took the box containing the Order of Merlin, First Class, and shook Kingsley's hand. There had been no debate among the Weasleys as to who would accept the award.

When George returned to his seat, Harry saw him open the box and read the medal, inscribed with Fred's name. A tear splashed down onto the gold and Harry looked away quickly as George leaned into Ginny's shoulder, silently sobbing.

Kingsley reached the end of the list of those who had died defending Hogwarts and fighting Voldemort. He paused before reading the next name. "I would like to give a brief introduction for the next person receiving the Order of Merlin, First Class. Two years ago, I was called to accompany then-Minister Fudge to Hogwarts to assist in dealing with some truants who were causing a great deal of trouble for the then-High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge. Apparently, these students had started a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts society due to the fact that they were learning no actual defense from Madam Umbridge. They called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army' and were led, at the time, by Harry Potter." Kingsley paused again. "This group was reinstated at the beginning of this school year, in order to undermine the Carrows, the Death Eaters who were managing discipline here at Hogwarts. However, due to the fact that the former leader, Mr. Potter, was then known as Undesirable Number One and unable to return to school, a new leader stepped forward for the group. I have spoken to quite a few members of Dumbledore's Army, including Miss Ginny Weasley and Miss Luna Lovegood, and all have agreed that though many were involved in making their plans and carrying them out, there was one true leader: Mr. Neville Longbottom. Neville, if you could please come up to the stage."

Neville was bright red as he hurried up to the stage and up the steps. Kingsley gestured for him to stand beside the podium as he continued to speak. "Not only has Neville been the leader of Dumbledore's Army for the past year, he was also instrumental in the final downfall of Voldemort. Many who were there will remember Neville stepping forward to confront the Dark Lord and then using the sword of Godric Gryffindor to kill Voldemort's snake, striking a fatal blow to the Dark Lord. Neville will today be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, because of his courage and his leadership. Thank you, Neville Longbottom," Kingsley said, formally presenting Neville with his medal.

Harry could almost feel the heat coming off of Neville as he shook Kingsley's hand, but there was a set to his shoulders that indicated the kind of confidence Harry had only rarely seen in him.

Neville went to leave the stage, but Kingsley stopped him. "Just a moment, please, Neville. Professor McGonagall, I believe you had something to add?"

"Thank you, Minister," Professor McGonagall said crisply, stepping up to the podium. "Congratulations, Longbottom, that is most well-deserved." Neville looked stunned, but pleased; praise from Professor McGonagall was rare, especially towards himself. "As the Minister has said, a group known as Dumbledore's Army was established in this school several years ago. Mr. Potter, then Mr. Longbottom here were the leaders, but they were not the only members. There were twenty-eight original members of the group, but, for one reason or another, the final tally, according to Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood, was twenty-seven true soldiers of Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall smiled wryly. "As the Minister has said, the Order of Merlin is the highest honor that a witch or wizard can receive. Here at Hogwarts, the equivalent is the Award for Special Services to the school. Each of the students of Dumbledore's Army, it is felt, deserves one. However, as that would rather overcrowd the trophy room, it has been decided that one larger than normal shield, containing all twenty-seven names, will be awarded. So, if each member of Dumbledore's Army would stand as I read your name." Professor McGonagall unfurled a roll of parchment. "Those who will be receiving Special Awards for Services to Hogwarts are as follows: Hannah Abbott, Katie Bell, Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Lavender Brown, Cho Chang, Michael Corner, Colin Creevey, Dennis Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Seamus Finnegan, Anthony Goldstein, Hermione Granger, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ernie MacMillan, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Harry Potter, Alicia Spinnet, Dean Thomas, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Ronald Weasley." As Professor McGonagall finished reading the list, Professors Flitwick and Sprout walked onto the stage holding between them a massive golden shield. Harry, still standing in the front row, could see the words "Special Award for Services to Hogwarts" outlined around the top, then beneath it in equally large letters "Dumbledore's Army." Below that were two columns of names.

"Longbottom, if you wouldn't mind accepting this award on behalf of everyone?" McGonagall said. Neville, still red but now beaming, took the massive shield from Sprout and Flitwick and lifted it as best he could.

"Dumbledore's Army!" he said loudly.

There were resounding cheers from the others. Looking around, Harry saw them all, standing scattered around the hall. He couldn't help it, he grinned too.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Longbottom, and all of Dumbledore's Army," Kingsley said, stepping back up to the podium as Neville, still beaming, hefted the great shield down the steps and back towards his seat, his Order of Merlin clutched in his left hand. Everyone else took their seats again as Neville reached his.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "We have one final Order of Merlin, First Class to award tonight."

There was a sudden, alert silence throughout the hall. All over, heads were flicking towards the front row where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. Harry was confused. One more Order of Merlin? Was Kingsley going to give one for all three of them to share, like had been done with Dumbledore's Army?

Kingsley continued. "If Mr. Harry Potter could join me on the stage, please."


	6. Chapter 6: The Awards Ceremony, Part 2

*****Hi all! So this is the final chapter of Aftermath, the second half of the Awards Ceremony. Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed and followed and all! Hope you enjoy it!**

**And to Beau2809, I think you had some very perceptive theories…read on to see if you were right!*****

Harry's stomach dropped. He just sat there staring stupidly at Kingsley for a moment, until Hermione gave him a small push and whispered, "Go." He stumbled as he got up from his chair, a whine of panic running through his mind. He thought that he had impressed upon Kingsley how essential Ron and Hermione had been to the Horcrux hunt, how he would have died, several times over, without them, how it had been Ron who had destroyed the locket, Hermione who stabbed the cup. No way was Kingsley going to award him the Order of Merlin and ignore them.

And all those other awards? Even if Kingsley had completely misunderstood everything that Harry had told him, surely just the fact that they were at the Battle of Hogwarts should have earned them Second Class. Or did Kingsley think that the Special Award for Services to the School as part of Dumbledore's Army was enough?

The walk to the stage and up the steps toward the Minister felt every bit as long as the walk between the tables when his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. There was a low murmur going around the hall similar to that occasion as well.

"Kingsley," Harry muttered as he approached the Minister, who did not look as though anything was amiss, "is there some mistake—?"

Kingsley cut across Harry, still addressing the audience. "I have called Mr. Potter up here so that he may accept the last Order of Merlin, First Class, being given this evening on behalf of someone who cannot be here to collect it for himself."

Relief washed over Harry, followed instantly by even greater confusion. Kingsley had specifically said that he would be receiving an award, it was why Harry had been dreading the event so much, but if this was the last Order of Merlin, then it didn't sound like he would be getting anything else. What was going on? And besides that, who was he accepting an award on behalf of? Harry ran through a list in his mind, but couldn't think of anyone who hadn't already received something. But Kingsley was speaking again and Harry directed his attention back to the man, hoping for answers.

Kingsley looked out at the crowd. "For his sacrifice and incredible valor, the recipient of the final Order of Merlin, First Class, this evening is Dobby, the free house-elf."

Harry could only stand there, stunned, as shock and joy rushed over him in equal portions. In a daze, he took the small box holding the medal that he knew would be inscribed with Dobby's name. As he shook Kingsley's hand, he almost thought he could hear a small voice squeak, "Harry Potter, sir!" and he smiled.

Dobby's medal in hand, Harry made to leave the stage, but Kingsley stopped him, as he had stopped Neville. "Not quite yet, Harry," he said. "We are nearly finished with our ceremonies for this evening. There are only three people left to recognize. If Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger would please join Mr. Potter and myself by the podium?"

They both stood up and moved towards the stage. Ron's freckles were standing out starkly against his white face. Hermione was quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeve; tears had been streaming down her face as Dobby was given his award.

Harry felt a rush of affection for his two best friends as they walked across the stage towards him, looking incredibly nervous. As Hermione moved to stand beside him, he impulsively grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She seemed surprised, but gave him a small, tight smile. Her fingers were shaking and Harry saw her grasp Ron's hand on her other side. Ron gripped her hand so tightly his knuckles were white. Harry shot him a small smile and received a half-grimace in return.

"As I said when Dobby's award was presented, we will not be giving out any further Orders of Merlin tonight," Kingsley was saying. Harry didn't feel concerned about this, but judging by the noises of the crowd in the hall, others did. There was a commotion of boos and hisses and yells that surprised him. He believed Kingsley had something up his sleeve, that he would not have called them up here for nothing, but apparently many of the people sitting in the hall did not have the same amount of trust in the new Minister.

BANG!

There was a sudden loud blast from behind Harry and he jumped, dropping Hermione's hand as he reached automatically for his wand, drawing it as he turned. Several people had screamed but silence fell as they all saw what Harry saw: Professor McGonagall on her feet, her wand pointing straight up in the air. It was she who had made the blast with her wand, which had effectively silenced the hall.

"Perhaps you could all listen to what the Minister has to say before starting a riot," she said coldly, her voice echoing around the now-silent room. "You three can put your wands away," she added as an aside and Harry realized that, like him, Ron and Hermione had their wands out and pointing at McGonagall. Stifling a laugh, though his heart was still pounding furiously from his momentary fear, Harry pocketed his wand and turned back around to face the hall; Ron and Hermione did the same.

Kingsley seemed to be fighting a smile as he continued. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said as she returned to her seat, her mouth a thin line. "As I was saying," he said to the room at large, "we will not be giving out any further Orders of Merlin tonight. That does not, however," his voice grew louder to drown out the few angry mutters that people had dared to utter, "mean that we are going to neglect to acknowledge Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger and their astounding contributions which directly led to the end of this war." The mutters subsided and silence fell once more; everyone was now hanging on Kingsley's words.

"There was quite a lengthy debate on this subject among the awards committee. The Order of Merlin remains a highly prestigious award that is not meant to be given out lightly. However, many of us felt, upon discussing the events, not only of the past week, but of the past year, that certain deeds deserved an even greater recognition than the Order of Merlin, First Class. Was that enough, we wondered, for someone who willingly, in cold blood, faced death? Was it enough for those who faced the Darkest substances that magic could muster? Who not only faced them, but defeated them, and lived to tell about it? Was it enough for three people who, even as young as eleven and twelve, proved themselves willing to give their lives to stop a war? Was it enough for someone who faced the Killing Curse twice and survived?"

The silence in the Great Hall was complete. No one spoke, no one moved. There wasn't even a cough or a sniffle to break the utter stillness.

As Kingsley was speaking, images had been flashing across Harry's mind: his walk into the forest; Ron bringing the sword down on the Horcrux; Nagini emerging from Bathilda's throat; Hermione throwing a curse at the snake; Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement; Ron being struck across the head by a towering white chess piece; a piece of paper clutched in Hermione's Petrified hand; Ron, swaying on a broken leg, telling Sirius he would have to kill all three of them; Hermione swearing she would do whatever it took to save Sirius, then crumpling to the ground hours later as purple fire streaked across her chest; Ron pounding on a cellar wall while Hermione screamed above them; Voldemort's face lit from below by a fire in the middle of the forest as he raised the Elder Wand; and his earliest memory of all, a bright flash of green light, accompanied by a high, cold, cruel laugh. Harry swallowed hard.

"After many hours of discussion," Kingsley's voice boomed out, shattering the stillness, "we decided that it was not enough. Though some of the committee were reluctant to disrupt that which has been established for centuries, they finally admitted that the world has changed. And these three," he gestured towards Harry, Hermione, and Ron, "were instrumental in bringing about that change. And so we felt that the best way to acknowledge their deeds and to showcase our gratitude for what they have done was to create an entirely new award."

The silence was now stunned, rather than expectant. Harry, too, was shocked. An entirely new award? Specifically because of them?

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered and Harry gave a small nod of his agreement.

"Professor McGonagall, if you would present the medallions?" Kingsley said.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding three royal blue ribbons with some sort of pendant hanging from each one.

"Well done, Potter, Miss Granger, Weasley," she said, smiling as, one by one, she hung the medals around their necks.

Harry looked down at his to see that the pendant was actually shaped like a phoenix, its wings spread as if it were flying upward. His heart leapt into his throat as he read the words engraved around the edges of the wings: "The Phoenix Award—In Memoriam of Albus Dumbledore and In Recognition of Outstanding Courage." In the middle, right across the phoenix's chest, in large letters, it read, "HARRY POTTER."

"It gives me great pleasure to present to you tonight, in remembrance of Albus Dumbledore and in recognition of pure nerve and outstanding courage, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, the first ever recipients of the Phoenix Award." Kingsley beamed as he looked at them and he and Professor McGonagall began to clap.

The committee members on the stage took up the applause, rising to their feet behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It was swiftly picked up in the audience as Hagrid, Neville, Luna, the Weasleys, Flitwick, Sprout, the other teachers, the members of Dumbledore's army, Mrs. Longbottom, the Creeveys, and hundreds of other people he didn't even know all rose to their feet, applauding, not just clapping, but cheering and crying and calling out. The words Harry heard most often, repeated constantly above the din, were "Thank you!"

The applause went on for ages; no one seemed to want to stop. By the time it finally began to die down, Harry's face was burning, Ron's was nearly purple and his ears were flaming, and Hermione was bright red, with tears in her eyes.

When it was nearly quiet, Harry reluctantly caught Kingsley's eye and the Minister gestured towards the podium. Harry winced. He had been afraid of that. He was going to be expected to make some sort of speech. He glanced at Ron and Hermione. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile as Ron grimaced. With a sigh, Harry stepped up to the golden podium, gripping its sides hard to stop his hands from shaking.  
Looking out at the audience, he caught sight of Ginny's face. She looked radiant, her features lit with a fierce pride as she gazed up at him. Gathering courage from her eyes, Harry took a deep breath.

"I'm rubbish at speeches, so this should be short." There was a murmur of laughter. "On behalf of Ron, Hermione, and myself, I just want to say thank you all, very much. As you can tell from everyone who has received an award tonight, we couldn't have defeated Voldemort alone, I couldn't have done it alone. It's all down to everyone in this room tonight, everyone who resisted him, who refused to join him or just let him take over everywhere, even if it meant risking being tortured or imprisoned or worse." There was a renewed bout of cheering and applause at these words and as he waited for it to die down, Harry turned quickly to the other two. "Either of you want to add anything here?"

They both shook their heads and Harry turned back to the quieting crowd. "Well, er, that was really all I had. I said it would be a short speech." There was a ripple of laughter again. "Just, er, thank you, again, everyone, for these awards and for everything. Minister, is there anything else?" Harry asked, turning to look at Kingsley, nearly pleading for him to take over again.

"That's all, Harry, if you'd just thank everyone for coming and wish them a good night," Kingsley said, making no move to approach the podium.

His hands still shaking, Harry said, "According to Minister Shacklebolt, that's it for this evening. From the Minister and myself and everyone up here tonight, we want to thank you for coming and being a part of this awards ceremony." Harry had no idea where those words had just come from, but he thought it sounded rather good. "I hope you all have safe journeys home and a good night."

Glancing at Kingsley to make sure he was finished and receiving a nod, Harry stepped quickly back away from the podium. The sounds of people getting to their feet and chatting and moving toward the doors into the entrance hall began to fill the room.

"Nicely handled, Harry," Kingsley said quietly. "After you spoke, I doubted that they wanted to hear any more from me tonight."

Harry laughed as Ron, Hermione, and McGonagall joined them.

"Kingsley, Professor, thank you," Hermione said, wiping her eyes as she looked at her medal.

"Yeah, thanks, this is brilliant," Ron said, examining his own engraved phoenix.

"You are quite welcome Miss Granger, Weasley, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, still smiling; Harry had never seen her with a smile on her face for this long before. "They are very well-earned. I daresay Professor Dumbledore would be thrilled."

Harry grinned. "He'd probably think it was almost as good as being on a Chocolate Frog card."

They all laughed. As he looked up, Harry suddenly realized that they were surrounded by the half dozen committee members, all of whom were looking eagerly from Harry to Kingsley and back again. The Minister recovered himself at once.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, I would like you to meet the Awards Committee, a subset of members of the Wizengamot who oversee the presentation of Orders of Merlin and, now, the Phoenix Award." He rattled off their names as each approached first Harry, then Ron and Hermione with their hand out, eager for a few moments conversation with the young heroes.

Harry tried to be polite and interested, but in the end, the only name he managed to remember was that of Griselda Marchbanks, who gripped his hand with surprising strength. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that award is quite well-deserved," she said, looking up at him, her wrinkly face crinkled in a smile. "But I'm not surprised, of course, I seem to remember that you did quite well in your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., yes, Professor Tofty made a particular point of mentioning it."

By the time the committee members had made their rounds and Harry, Ron, and Hermione finished saying their good-byes to Kingsley and Professor McGonagall, the hall was nearly empty. Clustered at the foot of the stage stairs, however, were the Weasleys and Hagrid.

Mrs. Weasley looked very ready to throw her arms around them, but Hagrid got there first. As they reached the ground, he swept all three of them into a bone-breaking hug.

"All down ter you three," he said, beaming down at them as he finally let go. They staggered slightly, all three of them gingerly rubbing their ribs. "Knew yeh'd be the one ter beat 'im, Harry, with Ron and Hermione helpin' yeh, o' course. And the Phoenix Award, in honor o' Dumbledore. Tha's just—tha's just great." Hagrid didn't seem able to continue. Tears were leaking out of his beetle black eyes and he blew his nose with a great honking noise into a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. Hermione patted him gingerly on the arm and Mrs. Weasley took the opportunity to pull both Harry and Ron into a tight hug, nearly knocking their heads together.

"We are so proud of you," she whispered, and there were tears on her cheeks. "Your father and I couldn't be happier, Ronald," she kissed him on the cheek, then turned her head to kiss Harry's cheek, too, "and Harry, dear, it's really just wonderful, such an honor for all of you." She released them to hug and kiss Hermione as well and Ginny promptly flung herself into Harry's arms.

Harry hugged her tightly, not daring to do more in front of her entire family, especially because he could see over her shoulder that Charlie, Percy, and Ron were all glaring at him. Ron he could deal with, and possibly Percy too, but Charlie was rather intimidating. Ginny, who seemed oblivious to her brothers' expressions, kissed him on the cheek before releasing him. Harry felt himself blushing again, but chose to stare defiantly back at Ron, who snorted and turned away, only to be grabbed by Fleur, who kissed him on both cheeks before congratulating him.

Harry caught Ginny's eye and grinned while Hermione glared over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. He looked quickly away from Ginny's expression, though, as Fleur caught and kissed him, too, saying, "Eet ees a very great honor, 'arry."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry muttered, turning redder. He spotted George's expression as Fleur released him to hug and congratulate Hermione. George looked almost gleeful for a moment at Harry and Ron's embarrasment. Then, it was as if he turned to say something to someone, but saw only empty air beside him. The glee slid off his face to be quickly replaced by another emotion so raw that Harry couldn't look at him anymore.

He was grateful when Hagrid provided a distraction by saying, "Well, it's been good ter see yeh all, but I'd best be gettin' home, Beaky'll be gettin' worried and it's time fer Fang's dinner. Sure I'll be seein' yeh soon!" And waving a massive hand, Hagrid strode off towards the entrance hall.

There was now no one left in the hall besides themselves; even McGonagall and Kingsley had disappeared.

"Well, Arthur, I think it's high time we were getting home, don't you think?" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Absolutely, dear," Mr. Weasley replied.

Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry and Hermione. "You're coming home with us, of course?" It wasn't so much a question as it was nearly a command, but Harry appreciated the certainty that was in her voice that they regarded the Burrow as "home."

"Sounds good to me," Harry said. Looking sideways at Hermione with a grin, he added, "Unless, Hermione, you were wanting to sleep in the tent again?"

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. I'm never going camping again. Going to the Burrow is the best idea I've heard since last August."

Mrs. Weasley smiled happily. "It's settled, then," she said briskly, "everyone's staying at home tonight. _Everyone_," she added dangerously as Percy and George both opened their mouths to argue. Wisely, they closed them again.

Bill glanced at Fleur, who shrugged. "We can sleep in my room, if Charlie doesn't mind sharing with Perce."

Charlie didn't seem to mind, but Percy looked a bit uncertain; Harry, remembering Charlie's snores in the tent after the Quidditch World Cup, thought he knew why.

Harry felt the loss of Fred sharply as they all left the Great Hall, chatting comfortably, broken up mostly into pairs. Bill and Fleur were holding hands, their heads close together, while Charlie and Percy seemed to be having some sort of argument about the sleeping arrangements. George was walking beside his father, who was talking to him in a low voice so no one else could hear. Hermione was describing to Mrs. Weasley some of the disastrous meals she had prepared in the tent, and Harry was between Ron and Ginny, the former of whom was chuckling as he listened to Hermione and his mother's conversation, while the latter had entwined her fingers with Harry's. He smiled down at her as they approached the gates, guarded by the winged boars, and she beamed back.

"I think this is far enough," Mr. Weasley said when they were a few yards beyond the school grounds. "Everyone set to Apparate back to the Burrow? Ginny, it'll have to be Side-Along for you, you're not of age yet, so find a partner."

"I think I've got one," Ginny said, gripping Harry's hand more tightly. His stomach fluttered as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as, one by one, they all turned on the spot and vanished.

Harry and Ginny were the last left standing in the now empty road.

"Finally," Ginny said, and before Harry realized what was happening, she was kissing him, harder and fiercer than she'd ever kissed him before. Harry kissed her back enthusiastically, losing track of time, not paying attention to anything besides Ginny and the feel of her lips on his, and the strands of her hair in his hand, and how gentle her hands were as they wrapped around his back.

"OI!"

The sound startled Harry, but he recognized the voice well enough to risk finishing the kiss before backing away. Slightly breathless, he grinned at Ginny, who grinned back.

"Had to congratulate you, you know," she said.

"Thanks," Harry replied, before finally turning to Ron, who was glaring at them both with his wand out.

"Finished?" he asked nastily. "Dad sent me back when you two didn't appear right away with the rest of the family, wanted to make sure you were planning on coming _straight home_," he emphasized the last two words.

"Oh get over yourself, we're coming," Ginny said. Ron opened his mouth to reply angrily, but before he could, Ginny threw her arms around his neck.

"For the record, I'm proud of you, too," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Ron looked slightly mollified as she released him, but was still suspicious enough to say, "You two first, then."

Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry before reaching for his hand.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her, eyebrows raised.

She smiled. "Always."  
Ron groaned but Harry's heart leapt and he had to remember to focus on the familiar building as he turned on the spot, pulling Ginny with him into the compressing darkness.

As the bands released around his lungs, Harry took in a deep breath of evening air, lightly scented by the buds of the apple trees in the orchard. Rising in front of him, lights already blazing, was the Burrow.

A "pop" beside him announced Ron's arrival. Still holding Ginny's hand tightly, Harry pointed his wand at his friend and asked, "What happened in the Room of Requirement, right before we left so it could become the Room of Hidden Things?"

Ron looked confused for a moment, then a smug expression stole across his face. "Hermione kissed me," he said. He kept his own wand pointing at Harry as he asked, "And what did you say then?"

"I believe it was something along the lines of 'Oi, there's a war going on," Harry said, grinning as he pocketed his wand.

Ron laughed as they started to walk towards the house. "I stand by what I said before. It was now or never, mate."

Laughing, Harry and Ginny still holding hands, the three of them walked up the garden path to the kitchen door. Looking around at the overgrown garden, the Wellington boots and rusty cauldron beside the door, and hearing the chatter coming from within the house, Harry felt a great sense of peace and contentment steal through him.

He was home at last.


End file.
